Starlight
by RenderBlu
Summary: A tale of Starlight and of Love, of hurt and the memories that come with it. Set before the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogies. Centered around the Wood Elves of Mirkwood.
1. A Real Father

**Author's Note- Hi everyone! My name is RenderBlu, and this is my first piece of fan fiction! Please forgive me for any rookie-mistakes, I'm totally open to reviews and criticism. This is set during the Second Age, while Thranduil lived away from his father in Lindon. At this point Thranduil is around 1500 or so years old. You can read loads more about all that here: wiki/Main_Page**

**Please enjoy and Review!**

Chapter 1- A Real Father

Starlight filtered into the Hall, Elves love all light but Starlight is most precious. Thranduil studied the stars, instead of the dancers, which he was sure is what his father would have preferred him do. As an Elfling, Thranduil had spent hours upon hours in many different libraries all throughout Beleriand, simply reading about constellations and stars, mostly stars. Not much was known about the world above, but that didn't stop him from reading what was there, however little it may have been.

Thranduil continued to look at the stars through the glass ceiling, specifically for this purpose had the ceiling been designed. Counting the constellations and distinguishing and naming different stars.

Oropher turned to his son with a curious look, he never understood what so intrigued him about the sky, the stars. Sure, they're nice to look at, but to Oropher it seemed a waste of time to desire something no one really understood.

"Thranduil" Oropher turned to his son with one raised eyebrow. The young Prince flinched at his father's tone, he strongly disliked when his father used _that_ voice.

"Have any maidens caught your eye this night?" He asked, turning back to watch the dancing guests.

Thranduil did not respond for a moment, "No, Ada." The Prince replied nonchalantly.

Oropher searched his face for any sign of emotion, even the slightest bit, he found none.

How could the stars entrance Thranduil and yet these fair maidens go unnoticed, or uncared for?

Oropher looked disappointed, there were many beautiful women in The Greenwood, but even now, Thranduil was not interested in the dancers. "Thranduil, do pay attention, you visit so infrequently, try to make the most of it." If the Prince heard him he gave no sign of it. Oropher sighed defeatedly.

The King took another sip of Miruvor, savoring the taste on his tongue. He was about to speak when he heard a voice call, "My King!" The voice was familiar to Oropher, but he couldn't place a name.

"'Tis a pleasure to see you this night, friend." Oropher said, upon turning around to see an old friend whom he hadn't spoken to for many a year.

The Blacksmith smiled, a mischievous smile. A smile the King had missed for too long, "The pleasure is all mine." Gildin replied, with a slight bow. "How have you been in times past?"

"Always the same, always the same. Save, a visit from a certain Prince." The King added charmingly.

Gildin looked beyond Oropher, and gave a hearty laugh "Thranduil! My lad, it has been too long!"

Thranduil was startled by the voice of Gildin, he had failed to notice his father conversing with the Blacksmith. "Indeed it has, Gildin." The Prince replied politely as he managed to tear his eyes away from the night sky.

"How is Lindon, I fear I haven't found time to visit?" The Blacksmith asked with a grin.

Oropher watched as the two talked of recent years, in Lindon and beyond, in Gildin's case. He tried to remember the first time he had met this Blacksmith, alas, it had been too long ago now... Oropher squinted at Gildin, nothing had changed about him, nothing visible, anyway.

"Well I'm afraid I must be on my way." Gildin said, returning to speak again with the King.

"That's too bad, we must catch up again soon." Oropher replied with a gleeful smile.

"Most certainly, farewell, Thranduil, Oropher!" He waved before departing into the crowd once more.

With one more sip of his Miruvor, Oropher began to once again drift into his thoughts, he glanced at his son, no longer was he infatuated with the stars, but simply watching the dancing couples.

The King thought about old times, times in which he was always with his son, times in which they spent every moment of every day together, times when they lived in Doriath, all three of them... Oropher shut his eyes tight, he didn't want to go back through the memories, and still, part of him did. The King compared the times in Doriath to the current time, some things were different, a lot of things were different. Perhaps he hadn't noticed it before, but when he thought about, Thranduil had changed too. He seemed much more... Distant. What had happened to the times when he told his father everything? The times of Doriath were long since past, but he had had little connections to his son for a long time, Thranduil had been lost to the King for longer than he could remember. Not since, not since... Oropher wracked his brain. Not since... her. He sighed, yes, that was when it had all changed.

The King cast another look at the Prince, he had never really thought of his son that way, he was never a _Prince_, only ever his son, and even that seemed hard to believe at times, physically Thranduil was a mirror-image of his father, but behind closed doors, they were completely different, and not just that, but, Thranduil always seemed to be off elsewhere, literally as well as mentally. Oropher had to admit it, to himself most of all, he had missed out on so much time with his son, he had chosen his kingdom over his kin, and it was his fault that he didn't know who Thranduil was anymore. The King stopped himself in his mad ramble of thoughts before he got carried away.

When Thranduil was younger, Oropher had given him the choice to accompany him to the Greenwood or stay in Lindon. Oropher was surprised at his decision, he h- "Would you really let me court any maiden I saw fit?" Thranduil asked, snapping Oropher out of his thoughts.

Oropher's heart leapt, perhaps Thranduil had seen, or even met someone! But another moment of thought changed his mind, he could already see where this was going. His brow furrowed, "Thranduil, I..." He began, suddenly feeling exhausted of this conversation, he had heard it many times before.

"Thranduil, you..." He tried again, but could find no more words.

"That's what I thought." Thranduil sighed, meeting his father's eyes with a sad look before turning and walking away.

Oropher watched as his son left the ballroom, with a sigh the King slumped again the wall. What had he done that had upset Thranduil so much? He hated seeing his son like this, or rather, not seeing him, Thranduil spent most of his time in Lindon, away from his father. Every now and then, especially in times like this, Oropher wondered if his son stayed in Lindon to get away from him.

Maybe if things had been different, maybe if... No. He told himself, it wouldn't matter if... If... Oropher shook his head to rid himself of the thought. _A real father would go and find his son..._ A little voice in his head told him. Oropher stood up after a moment, tonight, he would be a real father.


	2. A Blanket of Stars

**Author's note- Woohoo! Chapter 2! This one isn't quite as long but I'll try to get chapter 3 up as soon as a I can. Thanks for your views and please stay tuned! **

Chapter 2- A Blanket of Stars

As soon as Thranduil had made his way out of the ballroom and in to the courtyard, he felt like he would cry, no, he couldn't cry, he was a Prince, Princes didn't cry. What was he thinking? He wasn't a Prince, he was just... Thranduil. He may have been son of a King but in his own eyes he wasn't a Prince at all.

The courtyard was a rather beautiful place, he had never walked there before, and he suddenly wished that he had come earlier. He walked along the flower beds, _Elanor_. He thought. The young Prince sighed into the breeze. What was he doing? Why was he out here when he should be... Elsewhere.

Thranduil found himself looking to his only comfort left in this world, the stars, ever shining they were, always watching. "Naneth." He cried softly to the night.

His mother had loved the stars as Thranduil did, they would spend many hours reading together. It was from her that Thranduil gained most of his knowledge and his appreciation of the world above. Now the stars were all he had left of her, a single, silver tear made its way down her son's cheek.

Thranduil had never admitted to his father that he missed her so very much, he hadn't ever needed to, Oropher had known from the beginning. He thought about something his father had said long ago, how the Prince would 'do better to get out of his head and into the real world'. Thranduil winced at the memory, that had hurt the Prince, even if his father hadn't known it. Thranduil lived in his mind because that was the only place _she_ still existed in, why couldn't his father see that?

The Prince shook his head, his father didn't understand, he would never understand. He shut his eyes against the world, he couldn't do it anymore, he simply _couldn't do it_.

"I miss her, too." A voice said, laying his hand on Thranduil's shoulder. The Prince jumped at Saein's touch, but did not pull away.

"It isn't the same without her." He continued, his voice brimming with a deep sorrow.

There was silence between the two, the Prince and his childhood friend. "Your father would crumble without you, Thranduil." Saein added.

"I know." Thranduil breathed, though he did not fully believe it.

Saein departed soon after, and once more, Thranduil was left alone. He moved to a more secluded spot in the courtyard and there he sat, his knees brought up to his chest, his face buried in his hands. He did not know what to do at that point, he closed his eyes, and a long awaited weariness over-took him.

Oropher received many queer looks as he left the ballroom, it was terribly unusual for Oropher to leave one of his own celebrations. Nevertheless, he made his way out of the chamber and into the courtyard. It was then that he realized he had absolutely no idea of where to find Thranduil.

The King stopped for a moment and thought, the most likely place would perhaps be his son's personal chambers. As he was walking the length of the courtyard he saw a figure sitting under a tree, his head buried in his palms. Immediately Oropher felt sorry for the Elf, but continued walking as he reminded himself that he had to find his son.

Just as Oropher was about to open the door to the main dining hall, a thought struck him, that _was_ his son. He walked straight past his _own_ son and didn't even recognize him. What kind of father _was_ he? As quickly as he could, the King paced back to the figure who he found hadn't moved since.

Oropher opened his mouth to speak, but in truth he had no idea of what to say, or how to console his son whatsoever. _You could start by approaching him_. The voice in his head told him, and so he did.

"Thr- Thranduil?" He managed.

His son did not respond, and after another minute of silence, the King realized he was asleep. Oropher studied the young Prince, he may have looked like his father, but beneath all that he shared his mother's personality.

Oropher sighed, and sat down next to Thranduil, being careful not to wake him. He stretched out his legs, and looked to the stars. As he watched the stars, for the first time in his life, he actually found them quite engrossing. He didn't yet see what interested Thranduil so terribly, but in his son's company, and under the blanket of stars, he was content, and soon, he too drifted into sleep.


	3. A Flower-pot

**Author's note- Chapter 3 is a little bit longer than 2, there's a fair bit of dialogue but I hope it is worth while. Thanks SO much for your views and stay tuned! This chapter was mostly just from Oropher's point-of-view but I promise you the next few will be mostly, if not all, Thranduil. **

**P.S. I don't own any of Tolkien's wonderful characters, but some of the names (Gildin, Saein etc.) were invented by me, or others I got from an Elvish name generator which is pretty cool. Check it out, very funky, my Elvish name's Nessa by the way.**

Chapter 3- A Flower-pot

As dawn approached Thranduil stirred, and when he awoke, the Prince was surprised to find his father's head resting on his shoulder. For a few minutes his memory was blank, then it all came flooding back. He wondered what time it was, and when his father had found him. Suddenly he didn't want to be there, next to his father, he didn't want to bear the shame. But Thranduil couldn't move without waking the King. He tried to wiggle his way out from above, and from the sides, but it was impossible to get anywhere without risking waking up his father.

The Prince sat back down against the tree, he was just about to lift Oropher's head and run when he heard the King murmur, something inaudible at first, but quickly it developed into words, "No..." Came Oropher's voice softly.

"I hav-" Thranduil began, but his father cut him off, "Don't leave... Me, Alatári..." The last part struck Thranduil, and it was then that he noticed his father wasn't talking to him, he was talking to, to... Her. Oropher's voice faded out, and there was silence again in the courtyard.

The Prince managed to drag a small flower-pot over, and, taking a deep breath, carefully lifted the King's head, shifting it off of his shoulder and onto the flower-pot. Quietly he stood up, a pang of guilt struck him as he left his father, asleep under the tree.

Oropher awoke to somebody speaking to him, his brow furrowed, why would anyone be talking to him? And what time was it? "I'm not dead." The King moaned quietly, stretching his limbs.

Gildin gave a laugh, "Were you there all night?" He asked.

Oropher lifted his head off, off what? A flower-pot? He wasn't sure how that had happened but he should probably focus on the current time. He looked around, trying to comprehend what had happened. "Yes." The King grumbled.

"Alone?"

"Thr-... Yes." He lied

"What in this good world inspired you to do that?" The Blacksmith asked laughingly.

The King did not reply, Gildin gave one last grin, "well," he said, "I'd better be off then, I've got _work_ to do." Saying it as if it was foreign word to the King.

"I work too!" He called as Gildin left the courtyard.

He sat there for some time, thinking, wondering. Had he not sat next to Thranduil last night? Or had he imagined that? He shook his head, and eventually decided it was time to get up, off the flower-pot.

Several hours passed that day and still Oropher had not had a chance to speak with Thranduil, in fact, he hadn't even seen him. The King sighed, he could postpone his duty as King but he could not put off being a father.

Oropher stood outside of his son's chambers, deciding whether to knock or not, or to go in at all. With a deep breath, he knocked on the door. He shut his eyes, part of him hoping that the Prince was elsewhere, and that he didn't have to do this. But alas, a voice came from inside, "enter." Thranduil said.

The King opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Thranduil looked up at him from the book he was currently reading, apparently awaiting his father to speak, though Oropher didn't have the words, and Thranduil knew this.

"Was there something you needed?" He asked, his emotions unreadable.

"N- no," his father began, looking as if he was ready to depart the site at any moment. He sighed, "and yes." He sat down next to Thranduil.

No one spoke for what seemed like an eternity, both waiting for the other to say something.

"I, I came in here to try and tell you that I am sorry, I'm so sorry." The King shook his head, "you always deserved so much more than I could give you, and I was never the father I should have been." Thranduil's stony expression gave way to a softer look.

"Ada..." The Prince trailed off.

"No, it was never your fault, I should have tried harder. It was just so impossible after..." Oropher stopped, "after she died."

"That was not your fault Ada, it was no one's fault." Thranduil touched his father's arm gently, "and we can't change the past, only can we move on and cherish her memory."

The King smiled a little at his son's understanding, "But that's not what I came in here to apologize for." Thranduil listened, "Thranduil, please forgive me for my..." Oropher searched for a fitting adjective, "...words last night."

"You asked me if I would let you court any maiden." He continued, "and I know what you would think of me, but, as a King, I would perhaps see more light in a Sindarin partner," Oropher paused, "but as a father, _your_ father, I would support any choice that you saw was right and so my answer is yes; you may court any maiden you see is fit."

Thranduil didn't know how to reply to that, "Ada," he began, "I thank you."

"I too am sorry for deserting you last night, it was a rash idea and I regret my actions. Forgive me for not always enjoying your celebrations," Thranduil would have continued, but his father stopped him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, my leaf."

The two sat side by side for some time, reflecting upon the conversation, "Unfortunately I can't stay here forever, and have work to return to, no matter what Gildin says, so goodbye, Thranduil. I hope to see you this evening." Oropher announced.

"Of course, Ada."

Just as the King was about to disappear beyond the door, Thranduil had a thought, and said quickly "and I'm sorry for replacing myself with a flower-pot." His voice quieting into a mumble towards the end.

"I'm sorry, you did, _what_?" His father spun around.

"Nothing." The Prince lied.

Oropher looked suspicious but closed the door behind him without another word, and at this, his son couldn't help but smile


	4. A Star Itself

**Author's note- Sorry this one came kinda late, but thanks a heap for your reviews and a BIG thank you to everyone reading! Stay tuned for chapter 5! Yay!**

Chapter 4- A Star Itself

It had been twenty years after Oropher had woken up with his head on a flower-pot, and though fragile, Thranduil and his father's relationship had hung in the balance. And so it was on this day that the young Prince was in his father's library, characteristically reading about stars.

Thranduil looked up from the book he had already read several times when he heard someone approach. "I thought I might find you here." He said to the Prince.

Thranduil smiled, "and where else might I be on a day just as this?" He asked.

Saein shrugged, he sat down next to his friend. "I came to tell you that I'm going on a trip to Lindon."

Thranduil's face fell, what would he do without his best friend? Saein was his only close companion in the Greenwood. He sighed, "that is wonderful, on what business are you going to Lindon?" The Prince asked.

"I am visiting my mother, I haven't been to Lindon for so long." The aspiring blacksmith answered.

"And your father, is he going too?" Thranduil wondered if he would be able to talk with Gildin, he had been needing to do so for a long time.

"He is not, this time." Saein looked disappointed for a moment, he quickly replaced this with a smile.

"I fear I cannot stay long in your presence, I have business to attend to." And as he left, the Prince wondered when it would be that he'd see him again, often Saein would leave and return long months later.

He pondered, something had changed about his friend, usually Saein told him everything, but his behavior had been... odd, recently. Thranduil shook his head, if he knew Saein, it wouldn't be long before he confessed whatever was bothering him.

Several days passed and Thranduil had found little to do, save read the books he had read a thousand times, or so it seemed. On this day, a rather rainy day, the Prince was walking the passages that lead to the courtyard, it had become a place of peace for him ever since he fell asleep under the tree. _The tree_, it was his favorite tree in the court since then, too.

Thranduil gave a sigh as he pushed the door open, breathing in the deep scent of the forest, he was so accustomed to it now, it was different from the scent of Lindon, one is much closer to the sea there, giving the place a lighter air.

The courtyard was especially beautiful this day, and as the Prince walked along the beds of plants he felt that he knew every flower and every thorn in the court by name, until it was that the King's son came across a flower he did not know, and for a moment, he thought he was hallucinating, because for a split second he saw his mother, the Prince desperately tried to form words, but he was unable, he wanted to yell out to her, to tell her everything that had happened and gone wrong, and tell her that he missed her so, but he was frozen there. It took not a moment longer for Thranduil to notice it wasn't his mother at all. And he could do nought but gaze with awe, for this flower was not a flower at all, but a child of Eru, and the prettiest thing he had seen since the days of Doriath.

Despite the rainy atmosphere, she appeared to light up the surrounding area. His confusion broke away to a simple smile, she was asleep under the tree, _his_ tree, but he didn't mind, not at all.

Thranduil had never seen her before in his father's halls, or anywhere else for that matter, yet, she reminded him very strongly of someone, the Prince didn't know who, though.

Suddenly, Thranduil didn't know know what to do, should he approach her? Or leave her be? After some time thinking, he decided it would be ungentlemanly to wake her, and so, with one last glance at her fair face, he left her asleep under the tree, much like he had done to his father years before.

As he was walking back to his chambers he tried to think of who she had reminded him of, she looked a lot like his mother, but that wasn't it. Somebody else, but who? Thranduil shook his head, he didn't know, maybe he never would.

It was later in the week before Thranduil spoke with his father, he didn't wish to tell him of whom he had met, or rather, _seen_, in the courtyard. No, Oropher himself wanted to tell his son something.

So it was that the Prince was in his father's study, awaiting the King's presence.  
Thranduil looked around the room, he had never been in many of his father's rooms in the Greenwood, this one was new to the Prince. The walls were almost completely filled with bookshelves and cabinets. And in the centre of the room was the King's desk. There were paintings, too, of hunting and forest scenes, none of Doriath, Thranduil noticed. Ever since he left, Oropher never returned, it seemed too difficult for him to re-live the memories of times before he came unto the great wood.

A few hours later, Thranduil was contemplating what his father had previously said, he was planning to hold another celebration, why? Thranduil had asked him, _'I have received a letter from Gil-galad, he has need to speak with the court of the Greenwood, we shall show him the greatest hospitality Rhovanion has to offer.'_

The Prince sat down in front of the hearth, in his father's living room, thinking... Thranduil hadn't seen the maiden again after he found her in the courtyard, he was beginning to wonder if he had imagined her, no, she was so, _real_...

Thranduil sat back in his chair, he could not deny that part of him wished so terribly to see her once more, just a _glimpse_ of her grace would be enough. He couldn't explain it, but, seeing her was like seeing a star itself, only more beautiful.


	5. A Bond Cut

** Author's note- Yay, chapter 5! Sorry it's late, or, later than I had hoped. Anyway, thanks for being patient. Stay tuned!**

Chapter 5- A Bond Cut

Thranduil gave a sigh as he watched his father shake hands and greet their visitors from Lindon, many of whom the Prince knew well, having lived in Lindon most of his life.

He turned his vision back to the centre of the ballroom, where many Elves danced. Already the Prince had danced with many maidens at his father's bidding, and he was feeling utterly exhausted.

She had crossed his mind frequently that night, though he had not seen her... "Thranduil?" He heard his father ask him, though his thoughts were elsewhere.

He turned to see his father, standing by two fair young ladies, both looking intimidated by the King, or his son, most likely the latter.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at his father, who gave him a dismissing look. "Thranduil, this is Iriel, and Nellas. Go... converse." He encouraged.

Nobody spoke for a moment, as Oropher was about to leave his son, Thranduil sighed, "There are others who are better deserving of their time, Ada." He meant not to hurt the misses' feelings, only, it was true, at least in Thranduil's state.

The King spun back around, with a dumbfounded look in his eye. Thranduil had never been one to disobey his father's will.

Oropher struggled for words, "Thranduil, may I have a word with you for a moment?" He asked in a slightly demanding tone. Thranduil gave him a look as if to say 'really?'

The King took hold of his son's arm and pulled him a few meters away, and though he was not aware of it, that was the first time he had treated his son like that since he was an Elfling.

"Thranduil, what has gotten into your head? Are you mad? I'm not sure if you know this but you are a Prince!" Oropher whispered harshly, spitting the last words.

Thranduil gave only a pleading look in response. Oropher searched his face for something more than that. The Prince's glance drifted to the floor.

"Is there someone else you care for? Has someone else stolen your heart?" His voice almost desperate.

"No, Ada... There is no other." Thranduil hesitated, and in truth, it was not a lie.  
The rose in the courtyard had caught his eye, but he did not know her, and she did not know him, he accepted this with disappointment.

Upon seeing the sadness in his son's eyes the King crumbled down from his tower of fury. And though he did not know what so plagued the Prince, he felt guilty all the same.

"Thranduil..." Oropher leaned in to embrace his son, but the Prince moved away, fully aware of his actions towards his father.

Without another word, Thranduil walked away from the King, he did not leave the hall like the last time, but went to the opposite side of the room, as far from Oropher as possible.

It was at that point that the King felt someone had cut the already fragile bond between himself and his son, no, not just anyone, _Thranduil himself_.

Oropher watched the dancers coldly, he saw them, but he did not. His wine glass held so tightly in hand that one would have fear that it would break, his eyes once more returned to his son, and as he watched Prince, Oropher saw something change in Thranduil's eyes, no longer were they filled with sadness, but now a dangerous grief.

The King did not react when Gildin approached him, for a time the blacksmith did not speak, but followed Oropher's gaze. Understanding silently that something had happened between the two, he had a son, too, after all.

Silence held for a few more minutes before Gildin broke it in saying, "Has it ever occurred to you that he may be... fading?"

The blacksmith looked to his friend to find his reply, if only visually.

Oropher had never thought about this before, but now that he did, it seemed, possible. Even if he didn't want to believe it. Often Oropher forgot that Gildin was also a father and had experience in the area.

The King looked to his friend, his expression blank. "My own lass lost her fire for life many years ago, she's never been the same since." Gildin continued.

Oropher already knew that Gildin's daughter had struggled for many years, though it was times like this that he needed to be reminded. "Why was that?" Oropher asked hoarsely, feeling as if it was a rather rude thing to say.

Gildin gave a teary smile, "I've felt it, you have too. Something dark is stirring, it's slowly killing the forest, and through the forest, her too." He looked away.

"I'm sorry." Oropher apologized.

Gildin shook his head, "I sent Saein to Lindon, I... I don't want him to be affected too." His voice shaking.

It killed Oropher to see his friend like this, Gildin had always been such a strong person, stronger than Oropher had ever been. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"His sister's dying and... there's nothing I can do about it." The tears now flowing freely.

In that moment, Gildin gave way to all the tears he had held back for his son, for his daughter. And all the fake smiles he had plastered on his face to cover his sorrow, he gave in to the hurt that had tugged on him for months, _years_, and the King let the blacksmith cry on his shoulder, being the companion he had been for all time.


	6. A Numb Heart (Part 1)

**Author's note- Chapter 6 is in two parts, so hopefully part 2 will be posted soon. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned!**

Chapter 6- A Numb Heart (Part 1)

For many days afterwards, Oropher had been busy, he had spoken with Gil-galad and many others from Lindon. But every day since, he had felt, _numb,_ just..._ Numb_. And what was more, he hadn't seen Thranduil at all. None knew, save Gildin, of the events that occurred during Oropher's most recent celebration. And he was glad, so very glad of that. But what hurt the King most of all was the realization that his son was fading away, Thranduil had let go of this world because... _why?_ Oropher asked himself desperately, but he knew he wouldn't find an answer. He had wondered when the Prince had let go of the rope tying him to his world, and he thought it must have been long ago.

Oropher was helpless in this world of evil, an- "My Lord?" A voice asked him, removing him from his thoughts.

"What is your judgement?" He continued.

"I, I think we must act soon, or forever regret it." The King managed, now remembering that he had been speaking with Gil-galad and many of his followers.

Oropher listened to many different Elves say many different things, and though he heard them, his heart was far away.

Thranduil had been sitting in the courtyard since dawn, and he had no desire to move anytime soon. He watched the flowers sway gently in the breeze, simple and perfect. Thranduil did not regret his actions towards his father, not at all. The Prince was angry, _furious_ even, but mostly, he was hurt. His father broke something irreparable in Thranduil that night, and he had not forgiven him.

"They're beautiful, aren't they." A voice the Prince did not know said behind him.

Thranduil took no care to turn around, he did not know who had spoken and he did not care to know. His teary eyes trained on the flowers, he gave no reply.

Nothing happened for a while, and Thranduil silently wished he could be left alone. But the voice did not go, instead, she sat down, next to him.

Thranduil turned his head to meet eyes full of starlight. Eyes he did not know, and yet, were so familiar.

He turned his vision back to the golden flowers at his feet, and noticed that she wasn't wearing shoes. She smiled, a very familiar smile.

"Who are you?" He asked hoarsely.

She did not reply immediately, but looked at him with dark and deep eyes.

"I am whoever you want me to be. But mostly, I am Èarasmë. Not for much longer, though." She answered, her smile faltering towards the end.

It was only then that Thranduil fully realized who was sitting next to him. He looked at her once more, her dark hair and blue eyes reminded him of terribly and wonderfully of someone. "I've never seen you here before." He lied.

She said nothing in response to this, but picked up one of the golden flowers and spun it in her hands.

"And you are?" She jested laughingly. Thranduil smiled a little at this.

"I do not think I deserve an introduction." He said glumly.

She thought about this for a moment, "I think you are a very good Prince." She stated simply.

The King's son gave her a curious look, she already knew his name, everyone in the Greenwood did, she simply wanted to hear him say it. "I am Thranduil."

She only smiled, and for the next hour or so, Thranduil listened to her speak. She said nothing of her family or her past, only of the current time. As the minutes ticked by, Thranduil felt the darkness in his heart shift, and fill with light.

It was almost midday when the door to the courtyard opened for the third time that day. Thranduil's eyes met his father's. Èarasmë turned to see the King, but only for a moment before he disappeared.

She turned back to Thranduil, "you're all he has left, you know."

Thranduil was silent for a few minutes, thinking.

"I'm sorry, I have to go." Thranduil apologized quickly.

As he left, Èarasmë felt content in knowing she had made a new friend, and though she had spoken to him only once, she already knew he was in the same situation as she was. Èarasmë smiled, he had heart, and she wouldn't let him lose it.


	7. A Numb Heart (Part 2)

**Author's note- Sorry this is so very short, it's more of a continuation of the last chapter, an extra part, if you will. Thank you for all your views, we're now over the 1000 mark, and I'm so thankful for your support. Stay tuned!**

Chapter 6- A Numb Heart (Part 2)

Oropher walked briskly away from the courtyard. He didn't know what to think. He wasn't mad at his son, surprised, maybe, but not mad. For the brief moment that he met his son's eyes, something was different. When he had seen his son there, he was... _Happy_. For the first time in many years, Thranduil was happy.

The King knew of Èarasmë, but he had never met her, and he now wished that he had. He smiled, she would be good for him, no matter however short that time may be.

He knew, already knew she was Silvan. Not only just because he knew her family, but because she was... _Different_. and yet Oropher did not mind.

When Oropher made it to his study he felt exhausted. Sitting down in his chair, he scanned the paperwork on his desk, the events of the previous days returned to his mind. And he remembered what Gil-galad had said, _'we are are war, Oropher. Whether we want it or not, we must meet this foe in battle.'_ The hard part was that Oropher agreed with him, they were at battle, and they had little choice but to face it, face _him_.


	8. A New Perspective

** Author's note- SO SO sorry this one took forever to be posted! But it's nice and long! Thanks SO much for your views! Stay tuned! Chapter 8's coming soon! **

Chapter 7- A New Perspective

Thranduil gave another sigh, he had been summoned once more to his father's study, unoccupied, the Prince's mind drifted far away. He found himself thinking about Éarasmë, and Saein. He hadn't yet returned from Lindon, though Thranduil hadn't been without companionship as he had expected. No, he had made a new friend.

The Prince wondered if Saein had perhaps already met Èarasmë, they seemed very alike. Suddenly a thought struck Thranduil, that's who Éarasmë reminded him of. Saein! That was strange, they didn't look completely alike, but there was something about them that was very similar, but Thranduil couldn't pick it.

Soon after, the King entered, and quickly Thranduil felt very uncomfortable, he hadn't yet spoken to his father after yesterday in the courtyard. The Prince's eyes flicked to the floor, he pretended to study the carpet.

"Thranduil." Oropher said knowingly.

The Prince forced himself to meet his father's eyes.

"I wanted to talk to you this morning about political matters. I... We, are at war, Thranduil. A terror grows in the East." The King continued formally.

Thranduil wasn't sure what to think, a terror in the East? Did his father mean the dark sorcerer? Surely not, he hadn't been seen for many years. But then again, it was possible, he supposed.

The Prince had experience with battle, he had faced many evils and had spent many years training as a soldier in both Lindon and the Greenwood. Still, this news shadowed his mind.

"Thranduil?" Oropher asked tenderly. "I will not force you to accompany me, if war should be upon us."

"What must we do?" The Prince asked after a moment.

That afternoon, Thranduil met Éarasmë in the courtyard as the sun was setting, her dark eyes lighting up when she saw him.

Thranduil sat down next to her.

"I had wondered if you'd come." Éarasmë said with a slight smile.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier." Thranduil replied, remembering the morning's events.

He looked at her for a reply.

"I thought without my brother I would be terribly bored." Éarasmë said thoughtfully.

"But I am not." She met Thranduil's eyes once more.

He thought for a moment, again, they had been in the same situation. Both expecting to be unoccupied, and finding friendship in each other. It is strange, the way fate works.

They sat, listening to the sounds of distant bird calls and running water. Éarasmë watched a small butterfly rest on a nearby flower, flutter it's wings, and move to another flower.

"My father speaks of war in the East, of an ancient evil."

Éarasmë thought for a moment, her grace tainted by the apparent impending darkness.

"I don't want to go back to war." Thranduil stated painfully.

Éarasmë turned to him, watching carefully.

"I had hoped I'd seen the end of battle after..." His voice faded as his eyes drifted to the scars on his wrists. She followed his gaze.

"We all wish to see a day where war is unnecessary." Éarasmë said with a sigh.

Thranduil turned eyes full of tears away from her soft glance.

She gently reached for his hand, entwining their fingers. Silence filled the court, and through the tears, Thranduil was then very conscious of the fact that it was the first time they had touched.

The last light of day beamed down upon the two, and it was that day that Thranduil, son of Oropher had a thought...

That if he should never have to live a day without her, his world would be perfect.

As the afternoon set, Oropher sat in his study again, thinking. He didn't want to bring his son back into battle, he'd already had a lifetime's worth of hurt. But the King had to remember that his son was no longer a child, and could make his own choices. Oropher shut his eyes, he didn't want to think about it. After a few more moments he decided he 'ought to go see Gildin.

And so it was that Oropher found himself in Gildin's home, at Gildin's table.

"How is she?" Oropher asked softly.

Gildin said nothing for a time.

"A strange thing, she seemed... _Better_, lately." He replied sadly. "This war will surely send her into the shadows, I fear."

Oropher was unsure of how to respond to that, or if he should respond at all.

The spoke of other things until the sun began to set, and it was then that they heard the creak of a door.

Both Oropher and Gildin turned to see a dark-haired maiden enter. She looked shocked as she saw the King.

"Forgive me, Ada, I was not aware you had a guest." She said quickly to Gildin.

"Worry not, it is no trouble." Oropher said.

"Come, Éarasmë, sit down." Gildin encouraged.

Nervously, she sat next to Gildin.

"Has Saein not returned?" Éarasmë asked.

"No." Gildin replied solemnly.

Little more conversation was made, and so decided the King he had need to go, and speak with Thranduil.

It took the King quite a while to find the Prince, and when he did, he wasn't sure how to approach him.

So he sat in the chair next to him, saying only: "Thranduil."

The Prince jumped a little at his father's voice, he hadn't noticed him sit down, and he did not currently feel like talking to him, or anyone, he had a lot on his mind. After all, Thranduil hadn't yet forgiven him for the... _Incident_.

"I, I spoke to Gildin." Oropher tried.

"And, his daughter."

Thranduil knew that Gildin's daughter was suffering, though little else he knew of her, let alone her name.

"Èarasmë-" The King continued, but was interrupted.

"Èarasmë?" Thranduil asked suddenly, but sunk back down again quickly. Surely he had just imagined that his father said Èarasmë.

"Sorry." He apologized quickly. "I thought you said Èarasmë."

"I did say Èarasmë." Oropher said.

Thranduil froze, now he was really confused.

"Èarasmë is Gildin's daughter." The King explained.

Suddenly something clicked in Thranduil's mind, _of course_, it all made sense now. That's why she looked like Saein and tha- wait. If Èarasmë was Gildin's daughter, then that meant, she was the one... _Fading_, _suffering in silence_. And just as he thought he had figured something out, Thranduil found himself confused again. How could that be? She was so... strong. And he now felt guilty, that he had acted the way he did, when he didn't know she was in the same situation.

It had occurred to the Prince that _he_ was fading, but never had he tarried on it. But when he was around her, everything was... Well, _different... perfect_, even.

"She may not know it, and perhaps neither do you. But through each other, you save yourselves." Oropher said softly.

And in that moment, Thranduil felt, for the first time in too long, _love_. For his father, and, for Èarasmë.


	9. A Road Home for One

**Author's note- WOW. Thanks SO much for your reviews! You guys are the best! Sorry this one took a while, I would have liked to have had it out earlier but I had some technical difficulties. Just a few things I'd like to clear up, firstly, the name of Thranduil's mother is Alàtarien, sounds very much like a name Galadriel is also known as, but I assure you, Oropher did NOT marry Galadriel. I have developed a soundtrack for this, and while it is composed of enough songs, I don't doubt that I will be updated, but I'll keep you posted in that. **

Chapter 8- A Road Home for One

Years had passed, and though Oropher had managed to put off war for that time, it seemed that it could no longer be postponed. And so, the King and his soldiers now prepared to march into battle.

That morning, Oropher stood on his balcony overlooking his kingdom, he didn't think that he'd slept a wink during the night. Today the Elves of the woodland realm would meet The Foe in battle. And Oropher hated it, he _hated_ that he had to bring his people to harm, but the King had dwelled on it for years and found it was the only way to prevent them from further hurt.

He watched the sun come up above the horizon, breathing in the scent of the forest, and he wondered if _she_ had been there that things would be different, quickly he dismissed the thought. With a sigh, Oropher turned away from the dark sky, wishing with all his might that this was a dream, but it was real, _painfully real_.

Thranduil, too, had hardly slept that night, and as morning gathered, he, and Saein sat together on a small bridge. Saein, though a blacksmith, had insisted he accompany Thranduil to the fields of battle, and though he wished not to see Saein hurt, the Prince had to admit that the presence of his friend gave him courage.

In the recent years that had passed, Thranduil had further connected with Éarasmë, but it was only in that week that Saein had returned.

"You never told me you had a sister." Thranduil stated, pondering the coming events.

Saein smiled a little, "you never asked."

Thranduil somewhat expected more of an answer than that, but continued:

"But I'm glad you're back, Saein."

Neither said anything more for some time, listening to the silver silence, as they, too, watched the sun rise.

"Thank you for looking after her." Saein said, almost sadly.

"It was my pleasure and an honor." Thranduil replied, and though the two may not have noticed it, but both spoke as if they expected not to return after that day.

As midday arrived, Oropher made his way to Thranduil's chambers, he wanted to speak to his son before their departure. He knocked gently on the Prince's door, but no answer came from inside.

Oropher peeked beyond the door, to find that Thranduil stood frozen on the spot. The Prince was dressed in his royal military attire, and only then did Oropher notice how princely his son looked.

"Thranduil..?" Oropher asked after a moment.

Still Thranduil did not respond. The King slowly approached him, not fully knowing how to react.

The Prince had a cold and glassy look in his eyes.

"The last time I wore this..." Thranduil began hoarsely. Tracing the detailed needlework on his sleeves.

He turned to his father, and Oropher knew of what Thranduil spoke, even without the full sentence. _Everything_ had changed that day, and Oropher knew he shouldn't force Thranduil to return to war, but yet, it was by the Prince's own choosing.

"We can not change the past, Thranduil." Oropher said, though he wished it was not true.

Thranduil looked away quickly, frustration fueling his actions. Gently, Oropher placed a hand on the Prince's shoulder, but whether he was aware of it or not, Thranduil shook off his father and paced further away. Oropher knew he had caused wounds that hadn't yet healed, or perhaps, would never heal, he felt like Thranduil had forgotten him as a father, but there was nothing he could do about it.

The Prince stood outside the gates of his father's kingdom, cold hours after the King spoke with him, with the foot soldiers of the Greenwood behind him. Waiting to depart to the gates of war. There were just a few last arrangements to be made before their journey would begin.

Only then did Thranduil figure that he hadn't seen Èarasmë all day, and he was disappointed, for he so desired to see her before they left. As if on cue, there was a voice behind the Prince, and he turned to see none other than Saein's sister.

She smiled, "I had hoped you hadn't left yet."

Thranduil suddenly realized that this might be the last time he saw her, and though he had spent the last five-or-so years with her, it wasn't nearly long enough, and he wasn't ready to say goodbye. Years ago, when it struck the Prince that he would happily spend every day of his life with her, he had told himself he would do everything in his power to protect her, and keep her from fading. And to this day, Thranduil _had_ spent everyday with her, and he had felt so lucky to have met her when he did.

Thranduil had never told Èarasmë of how he felt about her, ...why? Because he was afraid, he didn't want to lose her, she was his last beam of hope.

Suddenly Thranduil did something neither he, nor Èarasmë expected. He hugged her. And she returned the hug, after a moment of surprise.

And so, the woodland Elves stood on the fields of Mordor. Alongside their kin, they prepared to break an unbreakable foe. Thranduil stood on the front line, the King several paces to his left, and for a split second, he saw something new in his father's eyes, _fear_.

Thranduil took a deep breath, and braced himself for what was to come...

Thranduil had lost sense of time, and was unsure of how long the battle had lasted, _days_, he supposed. And the outcome? By the looks of it, they had prevailed. Only then did he notice, _it was over_. And he was alive. Relief washed over him for a moment, before he had a thought. _He_ was alive, but what about Saein? Or... His father?

Familiarity struck Thranduil as he remembered all the times he had searched for his friends, and he wished he could say it was the first time he'd seen his fallen comrades, but it was not.

Hours had passed and Thranduil had seen no sign of the King or Saein. But he wasn't ready to give up. After a few more minutes of searching, he heard a familiar voice behind him, and he almost cried out when he saw a dirtied Saein. Splattered with mud and blood he was almost unrecognizable, but Thranduil had no trouble in identifying his friend.

Neither said anything, but a silent understanding was conveyed between them.

Soon, the Prince was once again left alone to find his father, and he was beginning to lose hope, but he continued on.

Thranduil scanned the rows of fallen soldiers left in the aftermath of the battle. Horrendous as it had been, the worst always came afterwards, whilst you search for your friends and allies, praying they're alive.

He had seen many Elves he had known already. Though there was one he was yet to find. Thranduil knew his father was a supreme warrior, his skill and finesse with arms far succeeded many, if not all, of his peers. But he also knew Oropher wasn't invincible.

Thranduil was about to give up when he saw something that caught his eye. An imperial helmet bearing the crest of the Greenwood. For a moment, Thranduil didn't recognize it, but when he did, it struck him. Never had he seen the Woodland realm emblem as _regal_, he had always preferred Lindon's. But now he thought about it, it was quite nice, _striking_, even.

Something crossed Thranduil's mind, there was only one with the authority the wear the imperial symbol. _The King_.

Thranduil saw the King, his plaitinum hair shining above the rest. And even in his fallen form, he looked... Kingly.

The Prince crumbled to his knees beside his father. Thinking the worst, hoping the best. He gently lifted the King's head into his lap, no longer aware of the surrounding world.

Tears clouded Thranduil's eyes as he tried his best to listen for a heartbeat. The King was, like Saein, covered in dirt and blood, both his own and the enemy's. Mostly the former, though Thranduil did not know where it stemmed from.

"Ada..?" The Prince asked, part of him knowing he would not receive a reply.

Silence filled the field, but Thranduil could not, _would_ not, believe his father was dead.

The Prince was surprised to hear a voice, and it took him some time before he noticed it was Oropher's.

"My leaf." The King croaked.

"Ada!" Thranduil cried.

"My son..." Oropher faded out.

Thranduil let the tears fall, landing in the King's silver hair.

"I wish I could tell you how sorry I am." Oropher managed.

Thranduil could only listen, unsure if the King spoke of the current time, or days past.

"I was never the father I should have been. I should never have left you behind." He continued.

"That was not your choosing, Ada." Thranduil said, figuring Oropher meant the latter.

"You will go back... and take my place." Oropher said.

"No Ada, _you_ will go back and _you_ will be King. Just like always." The Prince objected.

Oropher only smiled. "My time here is over, I know you will be a better King than I ever was."

Blood began to trickle out of the corner of Oropher's mouth.

"Thranduil, never forget what love is. Never let her go." He struggled with the last words.

Long had the King known of Èarasmë and Thranduil's bond.

The surprise in Thranduil's eyes was not unexpected, and posed the next question.

"My son, bloodlines do not matter, if they did, I wouldn't have ever met your mother." Oropher answered, almost smiling.

It had never occurred to the Prince that the mother he never knew was of Silvan descent.

Thranduil shut his eyes, wondering how things ever came to be like this.

Oropher reached for his son's hand, holding it close to his own heart.

"Never forget who you are, my leaf." Oropher whispered into his son's ear.

The Prince was not sure how long he stayed like that, clasping the King's hand, but when he reopened his eyes, he knew that his father had left that world.

**Author's note, continuation- Ok, that one was quite long. I'll just say that when Thranduil mentions 'the last time he was wearing this' (his military attire type thing). He is referring to a battle in which led to the death of his mother. Anyway, THANKS FOR READING, YOU MAKE THE SKY BLUE!**

Soundtrack, version I-

Demons by Imagine Dragons

She Is by The Fray

I Won't Give Up by Jason Mraz

Blessed Eyes by Beecake

One Life & I Won't Let You Go by James Morrison


	10. A King Amongst Them

**Author's note- Okay guys, I'm sorry this one is really short, and squishy, but it kinda makes up for chapter 8's crazy longevity. I'd LOVE to hear your opinions (or suggestions!) on the soundtrack, I also have a poll on my profile page, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE vote, I'd LOVE to hear what you think. THANKS FOR READING GUYS! I pinky-promise that 10 will be out soon, you see I've got it all worked out, as some of you may know, I had a bit of a revelation last night, hehehehe. Anyway... Stay tuned!**

Chapter 9- A King Amongst Them

The next few days passed in a blur, arrangements for the King's burial were made, and the Elves that didn't perish looked to their last remaining leader; Thranduil.

He felt lost, even when he had lived away from his father in Lindon, Thranduil hadn't felt this lonely. But nevertheless, preparations to return to the Greenwood began.

There was no celebration upon their return, even though they'd been victorious, joy was not apparent in the forest. But no one, not a single soul felt the shadow like Thranduil did.

For many days, none saw Oropher's son. He had locked himself away, and that was that. Some may have called the Prince's behavior foolish, _childish_, even. But in truth, none had experienced what Thranduil had, and they were at a loss.

Thranduil sat in his room, head hung in his hands. He didn't know what he was feeling, _guilt_, _grief_, no, he felt... _Trapped_.

He wanted to move on, he really did. Thranduil knew his father lived a long and prosperous life, and in that lifetime the King was happy, but on the other hand, if he moved on, he would be letting go, Thranduil didn't want to let go, not when all he had left of his parents were memories.

Thranduil sighed, sitting here would do no good. He stood, and walked silently to the window. Surprisingly, it was dark. And the Prince realized he was unsure of how long he had sat in the gloom of his thoughts. Thranduil wondered where he should go, where _could_ he go? But he thought, there _was_ one place he would find peace.

Stepping into the moonlight of the courtyard, Thranduil breathed in deeply. The scent of the forest was strong, but it was cold now... _Empty_.

The Prince looked to the city of stars above, and it seemed to him that something had changed about them. _There is a King amongst them_. He almost smiled.

Thranduil found he had wondered to _the tree_, and he wished now, more than ever, that his mother was there. He slumped against the tree trunk, sliding down to the ground, and all too quickly sleep overcame him, and he drifted far, far away.

He woke to the sound of bird calls and... Singing? That was unusual, how often did trees sing? He yawned, knowing it wasn't completely unheard of.

Thranduil stretched his limbs, something was different about today. It seemed the cloud of grief had moved from the city, whoever was singing appeared to be warding off the darkness.

"I thought you'd never wake." She said without turning.

Thranduil wasn't surprised at her presence.

She stopped singing after a moment, and looked at him sincerely, "I'm glad you're back, Thranduil." Èarasmë said in a more serious tone.

Neither said anything for some time, both entrapped within their own thoughts.

Thranduil stood, his bones aching terribly from once again, falling asleep under _the tree_.

"I'd ask how you're feeling, but I can't see much point in it." She said in an understanding voice.

Thranduil froze, she was right, there wasn't much point, she could already see that he was crumbling.

He didn't notice when she moved closer to him, only meeting her gaze when she took his hand in her own.

Èarasmë's starlit eyes found the frost of Thranduil's, but he looked away all too quickly.

"I don't want to be a King." Thranduil said in a tiny voice.

Gildin's daughter smiled, "The best things in the world do not come of our choosing. You're my friend, Thranduil, I won't let you face these demons on your own."

Thranduil didn't know what to think, he wished he knew what to think, but he didn't. _Ada would know what to do, he wouldn't hide himself away, he would face the world, he would, he would..._ Thranduil didn't even have an answer, he wished, he _wished_ he hadn't wasted his time in Lindon, but it was already too late.

"It wasn't meant to be this way." Was all the Prince could say.

Èarasmë watched him carefully, but she gave no reply. What could she say? He'd lost everything, next to Thranduil, Èarasmë had the world at her feet. _And what's more, he has to lead a kingdom he never even knew._ Words would be useless in comforting Thranduil now, she wanted to help him so terribly, but there was nothing she could do, was there? Or was there?

"You're right, it wasn't meant to be this way." Èarasmë said after what felt like an eternity. "But some things are sure in life."

**Author's Reminder- REMEMBER TO VOTE (CHECK OUT THE POLL ON MY PROFILE PAGE!) **


	11. A Light in the Gardens

**Author's note- OHMYGOODNESS! CHAPTER 10! I am SO sorry this one took forever, but you guys would not believe how much thought and planning went into this chapter, it's ridiculous. PLEASE review and thanks SO much for reading! As I mentioned, there is a poll on my profile page, PLEASE O PLEASE check it out, and I would absolutely LOVE to hear what you think about the soundtrack! Suggestions open! Chapter 11 out soon! **

**P.S. Hey guys, please review and tell me what YOU think should happen in the coming chapters. I would love to hear your opinions!**

Chapter 10- A Light in the Gardens

Thranduil breathed in deeply, it was the night after he'd fallen asleep under the tree, and though his mind was clouded, he _had_ managed to make some decisions. One, at least.

He found that the Greenwood was emotionally destroying him. Every step he took was a step looking into a mirror only to see not himself, but his father, in a metaphorical sense.

Lindon was an ideal place for the Prince to escape to, even if only for a while. He told no one of his intentions, save Èarasmë and Saein, for he trusted them most of all.

And so, in the dead of night, the Prince left the Greenwood. None went with him, for he desired to be alone in this.

When Thranduil made it to Lindon, he felt exhausted. Only then did it strike him that Gil-galad, who'd taken the Prince under his wing, was gone too, perished with Thranduil's father. A wave of grief flooded the Prince's soul. He was gone, not only was he without a father, but now a friend. When he'd lived in Lindon away from Oropher, Gil-galad had been like a father to him, and he was _gone_.

It was evening when Thranduil found himself in Gil-galad' courtyard. It was like Oropher's, but not quite the same. In the hours passed Thranduil'd spoken to the council of Lindon, on many matters of business, at last reaching the matter of Kings.

None had been decided yet, but one Elf in particular had been mentioned. Círdan, a wise and humble man. And not unknowing of Gil-galad.

Thranduil's mind drifted back to the current time. Something was wrong about right now, but he didn't know what. No... He knew very well what was wrong, _everything._.. Everything was wrong.

_How? How had this happened?_ He asked himself desperately._ It wasn't meant to be this way, they were meant to be together, all three of them._

Suddenly he felt angry, _furious. _Why had fate chosen him to be it's victim? It wasn't fair, but then again, nothing ever was. He sighed, and once more felt like the lost little boy he was.

"My lord?" A gentle voice came from behind.

Thranduil turned to see a fair-faced maiden, no older than he, surely. She wasn't _pretty_ pretty, more so... Well, he didn't know, but pretty, nevertheless.

"I- I'm sorry for bothering you, but master Evren will take conference with you within the hour." She stuttered.

Evren, one of Gil-galad's most trusted councillors, indeed, Thranduil needed to speak with him, but currently his mind tarried on other matters.

"Thank you." He said, after a long moment of silence.

She looked positively terrified, ready to flee from the court within a second.

The Prince looked at her for a moment more, trying to figure if he'd seen her before. She curtsied, "please, there is no need, miss." He interrupted.

She was shocked, "my lord, you're King of the Woodland realm, I think you deserve some... Niceties." The words slipped from her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. She blushed a bright shade of pink.

"No, I'm not." The spark left his eyes.

Never had she expected to _see_ him, let alone speak to him, the Prince of the Woodland realm. He was well known in Lindon, oh yes. She'd lived there all her life, and so had he. But as a maid, she'd never had the opportunity to meet _Thranduil_.

"I'm not a King." Continued he, his gaze, too, dropping to the ground.

She had a good mind to slip away without him noticing, but part of her knew it would be un-ladylike, especially in the presence of royalty.

"I'm sorry, for stealing your time. I'm sure you've got better things to be doing." Thranduil said, his eyes flicked back to hers.

"No, it is... No trouble." She managed.

Just as she turned to leave he asked: "Forgive me, miss, a moment more, but I never caught your name..?"

She hesitated, "Niphredil."

"Niphredil... As in the flower?" Thranduil dared continue.

"Ye- yes." She turned. "As in the flower." And with a last look at the Prince, Niphredil left the courtyard.

"That's a very beautiful name!" He called a moment before she disappeared beyond the doors.

He smiled, fate, it seemed, was willing to give some things back. He hoped that he would see her again. But the night was already drawn long.

She gave a sigh of relief as she left the courtyard far behind. As Niphredil hurried home she wondered if that was the way Thranduil usually acted, or if he was merely being polite. She shook her head, surely she would never know, nor would she know why she felt so... Excited, and nervous, at the same time.

The door creaked terribly as she entered her home. "Serís! Felissené!" She called softly to her sisters, for she dare not speak to her mother at this time of night.

She found them in the kitchen, working tirelessly as they did everyday. "What troubles you now, Niphredil?" Serís asked without enthusiasm.

"I met Oropher's son in the courtyard! And he _spoke_ to me! To _me_!" Niphredil almost squealed the last words.

"What!" "The Prince!" Squeaked Niphredil's sisters.

"Tell us, tell us _everything_." Serís said.

Niphredil pulled up a chair at the table, Serís and Felissené joined her.

"Well you see, I had to take a message from master Evren, to tell the Prince that he would speak to him later this night."

"Is he as fantastic as they say?" Felissené asked, seizing her sister's pause to interrupt for a moment.

"He is, truly." Niphredil answered quickly. "And then, I told him Evren wanted to talk to him, and, and..."

"And?" Serís and Felissené asked together.

"He asked me my name, and then he said it was a pretty name! And it's _my_ name!"

The three squealed together, much like they had done when they were Elflings.

"What's all this noise? The master'll have my head if he bursts an eardrum." Their mother stomped into the room.

"Naneth! You'll never guess what happened to Niphredil today!" Felissené squeaked.

"She met the _Prince_, and he _talked_ to her!" Serís continued the tale.

Their mother threw a glance at the youngest of the three. "Is that true?" She asked.

Niphredil nodded quickly. "It is true. It is true!"

Her mother's eyes softened for a moment, but a second later the coldness returned. "I'm sure he has a pretty lass back in the Wood." Perhaps she knew what those words did to her youngest, perhaps not.

Niphredil was silent, her excitement dying quietly as she realized this. It was probably true, she thought to herself. Still, that wouldn't stop a girl dreaming.

All three shrunk from their excitement at their mother's words. Serís and Felissené returned to their work with the usual attitude.

Silence filled the small home for several minutes. Niphredil was ready to retreat to her quarters when she heard her mother say in a tiny voice: "well... I hope, at least, he was well-mannered to you, love."

"He was, Naneth. He was."

Niphredil stared at the ceiling as she lay in her bed. And couldn't help but wonder if Thranduil did 'have a lass back in the Wood.' As her mother put it. Part of her hoped, well and terribly, that he didn't.

Niphredil smiled, he was a very charming young man, surely he would make a fantastic King.


	12. A Want to Run

**Author's note- Wow, what a weird day to post on. Anyways, sorry this one is late, but it's rather long, so yay! Thanks for reading, remember guys, suggestions are very much welcome, and I would still LOVE to hear what you think of, well... Anything. 12 will be out soon, I promise! And thanks for your reviews, you guys are angels!**

Chapter 11- A Want to Run

It dawned the morning of Thranduil's coronation, today the Wood would have it's King, it's leader. Excitement filled every corner and every crevice of the city, it had, of course, been a long time since any Kings were crowned, and this wasn't just any King, this was _Thranduil_.

The Prince'd returned from Lindon, he couldn't stay forever, surely if he could have he would have. But he knew that if ever he had to, this was the time where he had to step up.

Thranduil walked through the lane-ways of the city. There were still several hours before the ceremony and many preparations were still taking place. He had time to spare, so he spent it. As he walked past the colorful stalls of the marketplace and festive banners (for the occasion) a thought came to him, this was a place that Oropher forged, with heart and soul, and it a truly wonderful place. But now, he was gone, and everything was left to the people and his son, Thranduil was honored to stand under the leaves of Oropher's forest.

Thranduil was abruptly aware of someone behind, and turning he saw a small golden-haired Elfling . She barely reached his knee, and so he knelt down to eye level.

"Hello young miss, how may I help you?" She didn't seem to be accompanied by an adult, and shied away at his words.

After a moment, Thranduil smiled reassuringly. She bit her lip, and quickly thrust a small white flower in his direction.

"For me?" The Prince asked softly.

She nodded.

"Why thank you. I shall wear it with pride." He said inserting the flower into his silver shirt pocket. It matched his attire quite well, in fact.

"A pretty flower from a pretty lass I have received, I must tell everyone I know." The tiny Elfling giggled at this and skipped away.

Thranduil stood up, smiling brightly, vaguely he remembered meeting the child before, Seren, her name was.

Èarasmë woke the same morning, and watching the fog lift from the city, she realized that in only a few hours the Prince would become a King.

Thranduil, last night he returned from the grand city of Lindon, and Èarasmë hadn't seen him since he left. She dressed quickly and quietly, wishing not to wake her father.

Èarasmë closed her bedroom door silently behind her, she tiptoed down the hallway past her father'a room and-

"Where are you going?" Èarasmë jumped at Saein's voice.

She didn't reply for she did not need, nor desire, Saein on her tail.

"Hmmmm..?" He continued, arms crossed against his chest. Saein had always been the more responsible of the two, and sometimes this got on Èarasmë's nerves.

"I was going to the marketplace." She said, also crossing her arms, at least it wasn't a complete lie.

"Sure you were." Saein faked belief. "I've lived with you for a long time." He leant in closer and whispering, "I can tell when you're lying."

Saein regained his posture after a lingering moment. His knowing ways irritated Èarasmë, though deep down she knew he only wanted the best for her.

Èarasmë did not reply, Saein raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, I'll just assume it's got something to do with the Prince." He smirked.

"Does not!" Èarasmë defended.

"Does too, and you know it!" Saein fought back.

"It has nothing to do with him!"

"RIGHT THE NEXT ONE WHO SPEAKS CLEANS THE WINDOWS FOR A MONTH!" Gildin's voice broke the siblings' yells.

Saein and Èarasmë were silent, neither wanted to clean the windows. Both stood stubbornly solid for what felt like an eternity.

Saein sighed, Èarasmë knew that was her green light to go. As she started down the stairs Saein had a change of thought.

"Èarasmë." Saein said in a tone of voice that Èarasmë had never heard him use before, it was sympathetic and loving, but cautious.

She stopped before the bottom of the stairs to listen.

"I know Thranduil. He will treat you well, but... You can't expect him never to hurt you."

Èarasmë listened, but she wasn't sure that she agreed with Saein. Thranduil mayn't have been perfect, no one was, but he wasn't unkind, and it was hard for Èarasmë to fathom how he would... _Could_, hurt her more than she'd never hurt before.

She nodded before leaving the small house. Saein sighed, Thranduil had been strong this long, he'd saved Èarasmë from the ensnaring darkness by chance, perhaps. But he wasn't made of iron, and he wasn't invincible... Even if he was a good man.

Èarasmë walked quickly to the marketplace, she wasn't sure that she'd find Thranduil there, but it seemed an obvious place to start. The marketplace was especially crowded today, of course it was, it was the King's coronation.

She scanned the crowd, no Thranduil. Perhaps she would have better luck in the courtyard.

Èarasmë turned to leave the markets when she noticed a small Elfling at her feet. Èarasmë smiled down at the tiny child, and she smiled back.

Thranduil sighed, he was glad it was over. The ceremony had been long and tiresome, and of course, there was a celebration to be held directly after, but it was over.

He stood to one side of the hall, watching the dancers. Disappointingly enough, he hadn't seen Èarasmë yet.

"Ada, I think- ." He stopped short, only to realize that he wasn't talking to Oropher, or anyone at all, really. This was the spot he stood years ago, only last time he stood next to his father, and last time he was a Prince.

Thranduil's eyes filled with tears at the memories, he hadn't understood his father then, but now, things were... Things were different.

He looked down at the little white flower in his pocket, he'd worn it all through the ceremony, and he didn't intend to remove it anytime soon.

Thranduil made his way through the crowded hall to reach the grand balcony, overlooking the city. But he didn't look down, no, he looked up.

"Ada. Ada if I could turn time back, if I could do it again..." He whispered to the wind. But none heard his voice.

"Thranduil." Èarasmë breathed. "Thranduil." She said a little louder.

He turned, and smiled. "My King." Èarasmë curtsied. Glad to see that even as a King, he wasn't afraid to smile.

Thranduil still wasn't sure about the whole curtsying thing, and partially to make himself feel better, but mostly because she deserved it, he bowed in return.

Èarasmë joined him on the balcony in the cool air. "It's a beautiful night." She said.

"It is." Was all Thranduil could say. Èarasmë was not in her usual attire, instead a delicate green dress for the occasion, Thranduil could easily admit that she looked beautiful.

Thranduil noticed something then, a flower, a little white flower woven into her hair. "You got one too?" He asked, curious.

Èarasmë looked at him as confused as ever.

"A flower." He clarified.

"Oh!" She touched the flower in hair gently. "I did."

He smiled, returning his attention to the night sky, she did the same.

Perhaps he was unaware of his actions, perhaps not, but in that moment Thranduil took her hand, and with her hand, her heart, also.

Saein wandered through the hall, he wondered where Èarasmë had gotten to, but before he could wonder, or wander, further, Gildin interrupted him.

"Saein, lad, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."

Saein turned to see his father, and a young Elf his own age, or thereabouts.

"Evening." Saein greeted the stranger, taking a sip of his Miruvor.

"Dèros, this is my son, Saein. Saein, this is Dèros, he works in the guard of the King." Gildin explained.

"A pleasure to meet you." Dèros said.

The three were silent for a while, watching this or that, thinking this or that.

"Aye well, I'll leave you two, I must speak to a man about horseshoes." That was Gildin's way of saying goodbye.

Neither Saein nor Dèros spoke for some time, both left to his own thoughts.

"It's a beautiful evening." Dèros said.

"Very much so." Saein agreed.

Both were silent again.

"Oropher's son, do you... know him?" Dèros's curiosity broke through.

Saein smiled, "aye, I know him."

"And the lass?" Dèros nodded towards the balcony where under the starlight stood Thranduil and Èarasmë.

Saein followed the gesture, spluttering and almost (but not quite) choking on his wine when he saw his sister and friend.

Dèros was clearly confused and did not continue on the subject.

Saein was... Dazed. Èarasmë, and Thranduil... It wasn't like he didn't already know, but... It, he didn't know what to think. He wanted to go over there and lock Èarasmë away, but he couldn't do that, it wouldn't be reasonable._ That's what happens when you're mother spends all her time in Lindon, you start having ridiculous opinions of your sister's relationships._ He thought to himself.

Fortunately, Saein's crazed thoughts were broken by the gleeful voice of an Elfling.

"Daddy!" She squealed, leaping into Dèros's arms.

Saein couldn't help but snatch one last glance at Èarasmë before returning his attention to the current, he still felt uneasy, even though he knew he shouldn't have, after all, he'd known Thranduil longer than he'd known Èarasmë.

Thranduil turned around when he heard the voice, to see the little girl and, most likely her father, with Saein, who looked... Thranduil wasn't sure there were words to describe it. Nevertheless, Thranduil was ever so slightly concerned for his friend's mental state.

Èarasmë followed his glance, "I didn't know Dèros had a daughter."

Thranduil pieced together the puzzle, "Her name's Seren."

"Lord Thranduil." Came a somewhat familiar voice.

Thranduil was surprised to see Niphredil there. "Miss Niphredil. I'm glad you could make it."

"I came to visit family, and to see the King in all his glory." Niphredil smiled.

He smiled back, "Èarasmë, this is Niphredil, we met in Lindon," Èarasmë appeared from behind Thranduil, "briefly." He added.

Niphredil lost all her confidence at that point, not that she had much to begin with. Her mother's words rang in her head _'I'm sure he has a pretty lass back in the Wood.'_

"Niphredil, this is Èarasmë, she's a... Friend, of sorts." Thranduil continued, scrambling for words that fitted.

Thranduil noticed that Niphredil was panicking, "she's not, we're not... She's Silvan..." He regretted the words before he even said them.

"I mean, it's not... I- don't" He stumbled over his own words.

It didn't help Niphredil's case, in fact, she barely heard a word he said. "I'm sorry, my Lord, I- I must go." Niphredil was gone before he could make anymore mistakes.

He turned to meet Èarasmë's eyes, and for a moment, just a moment, he didn't recognize her.

Tears filled her eyes, and Thranduil knew he was the cause. He wanted to apologize, but words were useless, he'd already made a mess.

Èarasmë was surprised more than anything, she had never thought that _Thranduil_, of all people... She couldn't find words, I trusted him. She felt misguided, and furious... and _afraid_.

And then she did something that neither expected. She slapped him. And before he could say a word more, she was gone from the hall.

Thranduil felt it, oh how he felt it, not so much physically, but that, too. He didn't know what had overcome him to say that, he had betrayed her, he had betrayed _himself_.

Saein saw it all, he couldn't hear what was said so didn't _really_ know what was going on, but if he knew Èarasmë and Thranduil, which he did, the pieces came together fairly easily.

In but a moment Thranduil found himself in a position he'd never been put in before. Lifted above the ground by naught but Saein's raw strength and brotherly instincts.

"What did you do to her?" He said through gritted teeth.

Thranduil could very well say that he was afraid at that moment, and not just of Saein, of himself, too.

"Saein, stop." Thranduil managed.

"What did you do to her!" Saein persisted.

As soon as Gildin saw Saein in his... State, he was worried. It was very uncommon for Saein to lose his temper, let alone take it out on Thranduil. He made his way to the two, who were already being silently watched by almost the whole hall.

"Put him down, lad." The blacksmith said, laying a hand on his son's shoulder.


	13. A Broken World

Reluctantly, Saein did so. Èarasmë ran far away from the hall, she wanted to be as far away from it, from him, as was possible. She didn't understand it, she didn't 't understand anything anymore. She did not know how long she ran, but eventually she came upon a stream, not small, but not large enough to be considered a river. She touched the fast-flowing water, it was cold and unforgiving. Èarasmë fell to her knees and watched her tears fall into the dark water, never to be seen again. She didn't understand, she had trusted him, she had thought that the first day she met him was the start of something special, she had been sorely mistaken. "Èarasmë!" She heard the voice, but she did not. Èarasmë shut her eyes against the world, she didn't want to be a part of it anymore. "Èarasmë." Saein said again. Sitting down near her, he lifted her into his lap. Èarasmë cried into his shirt, her sobs muffled by the fabric. "You said that... He would hurt me, and, I didn't believe you." The words barely audible. "Shhhhh..." Saein hushed. "I thought, he loved me." Saein was silent. "I wish I'd never met him." She continued. ~~~ It was quite a while before Saein convinced Èarasmë to return to their home, and when he did, he was confused. That wasn't Thranduil, Thranduil wasn't cruel or cold, he was... Different, not like that, at least. 


End file.
